Letters to France
by fire for liars
Summary: For only 44 cents, you too can receive great relationship advice! Additional letter price not included, results may vary. Romano couldn't believe what he was doing.
1. Letter Block 1

A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone! This story was made for a friend, as a request. It's a letter fanficion, but not the kind many of you may be used to. There will be two letters per chapter, because if there was just one, it would make it too short. Rated T for Romano's language. I hope you enjoy! Hetalia © Himaruya Hidekazu.

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><p>France's radio channel:<p>

I'll get straight to the point so I don't have to spend any more time writing this in secret have to keep talking to you like some kind of idiot. There's one girl I like. She beautiful and can keep up with me. She's more of a romantic, and that's not really my expertise. I tried to send her fucking flowers, but I didn't leave a card and she assumed they were from her brother. I'm not quite sure if I can get up the courage to tell her how I feel, but I just want her to notice me!

A listener.

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><p>France:<p>

I will not call you Big Brother France! That's idiotic, you bastard! And your advice didn't work at all, because I wasn't stupid enough to try it. Mooning the girl you like wouldn't really help your relationship, for any of the slower listeners.

Besides, my girl still hasn't responded to me. She always treats me like a kid brother, but I'd rather feel differently towards her. I'm sure if we were alone one day, it would work out. We and two friends actually had dinner last night, even though it was just small talk and churros. I'm going to visit my brother soon, so I hope you have some _legitimate advice _before I get back.


	2. Letter Block 2

France:

No, I don't care if you stop giving me advice! I am not fucking calling you that, and if you won't help me, then I don't need your help anyways!

I took your advice and I sent her flowers again, nice red and yellow ones, and I sent a little card with my name on it. She got them a few days afterwards and thanked me for the early birthday present. I don't think she liked them much. We're still celebrating her birthday in a few days, so I need to get her an actual, thoughtful birthday gift. Either that or I'll just snatch something from my brother. He's always been good at that kind of stuff.

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><p>France:<p>

Asking her to a romantic evening seems way too fucking hard to tell me to do now. I seriously doubt letting my "body do the talking" is going to work! God, even _you_ seem to be an idiot with this kind of stuff.

Although it seemed like today I got a little lucky.

She, my best friend, and I were all going to go to this great bistro near my house. My friend then happened to get sick that day, which is _so_ unfortunate as I had the same exact sickness he had a few days ago, and I told him he shouldn't have stayed so close to me and I didn't need his help.

So, he stayed at home barfing his breakfast out but he said that we should go anyways. It was certainly interesting. We just ate our dinner and she made small talk and I answered everything, but I swear to God, my face was red as a tomato. Although I can't even fucking believe it, I made it through alive and she gave me a goodbye hug. A hug, really! And a brotherly hug at that. She thinks of me no more than her younger brother, of course.


	3. Letter Block 3

France:

We had dinner again last night, but it was everyone at this one: she, my friend, her brother, and me. My friend cooked, which was great, since it's usually me stuck with the kitchen work. It's her birthday tomorrow, and we're having one big dinner and she insisted that everyone order out and we'll have breakfast for dinner, like she loves. I have to think of some sort of gift soon!

The party tomorrow is for a lot of people, including my own brother and his best friend, the only man in the world I would like to gag with a spoon. I'll deal with him, but I swear if he talks to me he's getting a mouthful of waffles. And my brother should behave himself too; he can be such an ignorant dunce sometimes.

Otherwise, dinner went well, although I'm pretty sure my brother's friend's eye won't heal soon. I'm still working on my drawing for tomorrow night, I had to borrow paints and everything, but it's such a great portrait of her, better than anyone else could have done. I still have art in my family, you know!

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><p>France:<p>

She said it was cute.

Cute.

Which means she likes it, but no more than someone would like a kitten. A really _cute_ kitten, but it doesn't matter, because nothing I do seems to be working. The picture is probably sitting on her bedroom floor, gathering dust. Back when I was small, people always called me "cute" and they always wanted something. Damn it, I'm always being targeted by everyone!

Her birthday passed already, and still nothing happened between us. I'm beginning to think that you're just raking in the audience's money and not helping us at all—jackass! How difficult is it to instruct someone on how to pick up a girl?

I'm trying again later. I'd rather not be set up for rejection.


	4. Letter Block 4

France:

We've started talking more, like you said to try. It was just small talk after a while, but she began to tell me about where she wanted to go, and what she wanted to do, and stuff that made me blank out after a while. I'm glad she likes me more, but she tends to talk about her brother and her garden and what she's planning to try making in the kitchen a lot. I told her that I would help, so I don't seem useless to her as a friend.

We've been good friends for a long time, and I knew her since I was a little kid. We used to hang out with our group of friends on weekends, and even when some of us were away for work, we always managed to get at least one day a month with all of us together. But she doesn't seem to like me any more than she likes her own brother (maybe a little more, as they don't have the best relationship).

It's good that I'm great at cooking (at least good Italian dishes; otherwise everything tends to set on fire and we need to replace the fire extinguisher soon), but I'll let her teach me some of her own techniques.

Oh, and stop fucking beeping out every word I say. I know I have a dirty mouth, but you can't censor me! …bastard.

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><p>France:<p>

You mean I _have_ to listen? That's stupid, but it's love. I've never been good at that, it's too…complex? That's probably not it, romance is just flowers and candy, but it's so much more than that! It's listening, then, from what you say.

She wants to see Asia, and she says she wants to get out of her little corner of the world and go see the rest of Europe, and she wants to go see her friend in Switzerland, she wants to visit the Balkans, the Americas (where she has a few more friends), all around. I never knew that she had such big intentions, but she says she wants to reconnect with everything. I can't imagine going to all these places. I'm more than happy in my own house.

We've arranged for another friendly dinner together, just the two of us this time, as I suggested to my friend that he leave during that time on some errands. Hopefully he'll get the hint, even though he can barely do that sometimes.


	5. Letter Block 5

France:

Holy shit!

We went out to this fancy diner (I picked it out; I knew the manager's cousin's husband's best friend) and she was talkative, but she asked a lot of questions about me too. She also said that one day, she and I were going to hop into a plane and go places.

She wants to go places with me! I guess that maybe my own little section of the world could expand a bit more, just for her. For her.

I said that would be great, and she laughed and cracked open a bottle of wine. We both had a few glasses and at the end of the night, she motioned me over, kissed me on the cheek, and told me she had a wonderful time.

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><p>France:<p>

And then my best friend ruined everything.

If he wasn't so goddamned "sweet" and "funny" and whatever else people like to say about him, I would be able to live such a normal, happy life. While he and she were watching the football match together, they were both laughing and he put his arm around her and she snuggled into the nook of him arm and he kissed her on the top of her head.

This sucks.

Your advice worked for about a month, until today. When I have to choose between my bastard of a friend and my perfect girl, it's hard enough. When I have to do it over the radio, it's hell.


	6. Letter Block 6

France:

I talked to my friend, and he said he would back off, "only for me". I swung at him, so he got some ice and told me I was cute.

I'm surprising her tonight. Making delicious food has always been my strong point, as well as harvesting vegetables and being smooth. This should all go perfectly. My friend even offered to help me out (which proves he isn't as much of a jackass as I thought, but only by a little) by giving me the spare key to her house, as he's the one that watches over her flowers when she's away.

I'm actually about to run over to her house right now, which is probably the reason my handwriting is chicken scratch, not that you mind. And cut it with the censors, France, or I'm finding you!


	7. Letter Block 0

Perfection was hard to come by, but Romano came pretty damn close.

He waved off the candle's match and stuck it in the sink, then stretched out the tablecloth's creases. He bit his thumbnail, straightened his shirt, and waited.

The anticipation was killing him as he sat awkwardly on Belgium's couch, not wanting to ruin the cover (she had always been neat) and bit his nail again. Where was she? Romano had already told her that he was treating her to dinner, and that Spain would drive her over to the restaurant, as he was busy the few minutes before they were to meet. Spain would drive her to her own house, where she would be surprised for the dinner and love it.

He checked his watch. Spain was late. What if she refused to go? What if he was rejected as just kid with a crush, and all this food would go to waste? The thoughts swirled around in his mind, and Romano was sure that his heart was about to jump through his chest and Belgium would find him dead on her clean white living room sofa.

The doorbell rang.

Romano's pulse sped up once more, but he forced it to slow with a few deep breaths. He walked to the door and opened it, smiling at Belgium, all dressed up in a violet dress with that matching headband she always wore. She had once told him she had many in many different colors, for each occasion. He listened.

"I made dinner." Romano said, and then mentally slapped himself across the face. Idiot! He felt like he was narrating his life, which was the lamest thing he could done at the moment. She didn't want to hear that.

But Belgium laughed, and walked with him to her own kitchen. Romano had on a goofy smile and Belgium gasped when she entered. He had cooked everything himself, the pasta, the sauce; he had kneaded the bread and cut up the vegetables. _Perfection_. He thought. The lights were dimmed so that the candles cast a soft light all over the room.

"Romano, did you make this for—?" She asked, and Romano smiled again. It was so easy to smile with her.

"Why don't we eat?" Romano and Belgium sat down right next to each other, she at one side and he on the side next to her.

Dinner went quickly, quicker than Romano had hoped for. They talked about everything; she told him of her other ambitions, he told her of his, they laughed and he smiled more than he would have in a day. Belgium walked up to him and swung her arms around his neck. It was just past ten when she stood up and said she had to leave.

"Thanks for the great night." She said into his ear, and kissed him.

Romano closed his eyes are hugged her tightly. She smelled of chocolate and tulips. When they broke away from each other, Romano felt as though he wanted to kiss her again, over and over again, just for the sake of feeling her touch again. She smiled at him and hugged him once more.

"Romano, you would have been perfect without the radio." She whispered.

"Wh-what?" He said.

"France's station always plays the best music, you know."

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><p>AN: Thank you for reading! Comments appreciated!


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